


Take It Easy

by sxldato



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Food Poisoning, Gen, Grieving Sam Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Past Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 03:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15986486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxldato/pseuds/sxldato
Summary: Sam throws up by the side of the road and has a subsequent mild meltdown.





	Take It Easy

**Author's Note:**

> i launched right from one bingo challenge into another, this was written for the food poisoning square  
> all of these bingo square fills _will_ be titled with eagles songs because. why not

The car was in idle but the radio had been left on, muffled by the rumble of the Impala’s engine. Eagles. Their self-titled debut album. Released in 1972. 

Sam had inherited too much classic rock knowledge from Dean. 

He was crouched down by the tailpipe, braced against the hubcap, praying they could at least make it to a motel before he died. Snuffing it by the side of the road on some unknown Minnesota highway felt… anticlimactic. 

“I hope the irony isn’t lost on you,” Dean snickered from somewhere behind him– Dean, his steel-stomached brother. Man,  _fuck_ him. 

“Fuck you,” Sam echoed his thoughts– or tried to. His words trailed off into a strangled gag, stomach clenching, throat spasming. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re always eating that raw shit.” 

With consequences like this, Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever eat again, let alone at the edge-of-town diners that he and Dean frequented _._

If he was lucky (he wasn’t), his body would adjust the longer he was back on the road with Dean. Maybe college had sanded down the rough edges of him, made a civilian out of him. 

He missed Palo Alto. He missed the woman he left behind there, buried in all that ash and rubble. 

God. Fuck. 

Sam drew a weak breath but was cut off by another involuntary retch. More of his stomach’s contents spilled onto the asphalt, leaving him choking and spluttering. His skin prickled with sweat and  _Jesus_ , it was hot for autumn in the north. 

A cramp seized him and he didn’t stop the groan that slipped past his mouth. Keeping up appearances in front of his big brother wasn’t one of his primary concerns right now; he was miserable. 

“You okay?” 

The lighthearted goading tone in Dean’s voice had disappeared, replaced with concern. He knelt beside Sam and brushed the hair from his face. Sam didn’t answer him, instead closing his eyes at the touch and breathing through his nose as another wave of nausea crested over him. 

“This really blindsided you, huh?” 

“Ugh…” Sam spat onto the ground and wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. “Yeah.” 

They’d eaten a little over an hour ago, and the feeling had come on with no warning whatsoever. Sam had sat up straight in his seat and grabbed Dean by the arm, telling him to pull over  _now_. 

He’d vomited once right outside the passenger door, boots getting caught in the crossfire, then stumbled a couple feet and collapsed by the trunk. The whole situation was comically disastrous. 

Sam liked to think he had his shit together. He liked to think that in the face of such brutal loss, he was managing pretty well, all things considered. But when he was even slightly off his game, let alone floored by an abrupt and violent onset of food poisoning, clinging to the safety bar became arduous. His palms grew clammy and they slipped. 

The next breath he took was punctuated by a sob. 

“Hey, hey.” Dean spoke so softly that it ushered more tears to spring to Sam’s eyes. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. He needed something sturdy to hold on to.

“Dean…” 

“I gotcha, I’m here,” Dean told him. He rubbed back and forth across the wide plane of Sam’s shoulders a couple times, easing the tension out of Sam’s body. “I think we oughta get you some Pepto, kid.” 

Sam managed a quivering mess of a laugh and wiped away his tears with the pads of his fingers. 

“You with me?” 

Sam nodded. He tried to say “I’m sorry,” but it came out in a hoarse whisper. 

“’S okay, Sammy. You’re sick, it happens.” 

If he tried hard enough, he could pretend that the fingers combing through his hair were Jess’s and not Dean’s. Guilt swooped in as soon as his mind had finished forming the thought. 

“This blows,” he said. He didn’t just mean the roadside food poisoning, although that was part of it. He hoped Dean understood that without him saying it. He was too tired to explain. 

“I know,” Dean said. “I’m gonna find somewhere you can rest.  But I gotta get you there, first.” 

Driving for an undetermined length of time in search for a place to stay sounded hellish, but it was better than staying here on the shoulder lane of Route Sam-wasn’t-even-sure-what-number. 

After a minute of gathering himself, he let Dean haul him to his feet and made his way back to the passenger seat on wobbly legs. Dean cranked on the AC even though it barely worked and unrolled the windows for good measure.

“You all set?” Dean asked him. 

Sam nodded, swallowing the bitter taste at the back of his throat. 

Dean hesitated, hand on the gear shift. 

“You’re gonna be alright, Sammy,” Dean said, moving from the gear shift to clap Sam on the knee with a reassuring sort of strength. “I got you. Okay?” 

It didn’t seem like he would be alright, not one bit. But Sam had grown up fostering a deep faith in Dean, and that part of him that still took Dean’s words as gospel believed him. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @itsaboutsam for more angsty yucky content


End file.
